


Bound

by robinfan2



Category: Nightwing (Comics), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics), Robin (Comics)
Genre: Alpha/Omega, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-12
Updated: 2014-06-13
Packaged: 2018-01-19 02:20:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1451905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/robinfan2/pseuds/robinfan2
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a world where Omegas are nearly extinct, Dick has to share.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Bound

TIM's eyes - usually violet in low light - were blown wide as he looked at him, pleading desperately. The Omega's hands fisted tightly on Dick's due-to-be-thrown-into-the-laundry bed sheets. His feet struggled to remain anchored on the bed, his legs spread apart by Jason's wide, muscular shoulders.

It must be torture, Dick thought, to be unable to thrust. Jason kept a firm, strong hand on the younger man's hip even as his mouth was pulling Tim closer and closer into orgasm. The redhead's other hand wasn't idle; his well lubricated fingers were judiciously delving into Tim, relentlessly opening him up.

Dick sat near and cupped Tim's jaw before dipping in to taste the Omega's mouth. He brushed his lips against Tim's swollen ones before licking a path in. His tongue then moved slowly, teasingly, driving Tim insane with added pleasure.

But Dick kept at it, not giving in to the younger's demand for a harder kiss. He continued to suck languidly until Tim came, pitifully moaning into his mouth. After Tim had finished riding the crest, he finally drew away, slowly and deliberately, dropping a light kiss on his lips.

He stood even as Jason crawled over their adoptive brother, face nuzzling against Tim's neck. Jason was already inside Tim and his hips were rolling at a quick, almost violently pounding pace.

As Tim's primary Alpha, Dick could demand Tim's attention any time. But Jason had asked for this, asked for some alone time with their Omega. Dick could not say _no_. Jason was leaving for an intergalactic mission and, as Tim's secondary Alpha, needed the intimacy. The operation involved a lot of risks and unknowns. They might lose Jason a second time.

He slipped out of the room and closed the door on the sounds and smell of pleasure. He dropped on the sofa and turned on the TV. Cumberbatch's on as Van Gogh. 

***

He woke with a start, feeling someone staring at him.

"Sorry to wake you, Goldie," Jason said, sheepishly. "I didn't want to leave without saying goodbye."

Dick stood up to give his brother a hug. "Come back home, you hear?"

"I..." Jason ran his fingers through his white streaked hair. "You're gonna look after him?"

"I'm his Alpha, too, Jay."

Jason nodded. "Thank you, Dick. You know... for letting me... Tim..."

"Jay, one of the best decisions I ever made was agreeing to Bruce's suggestion to make you Tim's secondary Alpha. I don't have to worry about him when I'm not around to protect him. In our line of work, things happen."

Jason grinned then and they shook hands. He was sad to see his brother go.

***

"He's gone?"

He pulled the younger man closer to his chest, pressing his lips on the newly formed bruise on Tim's neck.

"Hmmm..."

"Will he be alright?"

"I hope so," he finally answered. "I asked Donna and Kyle to look after him."

"I hate this... I hate that we can't help him if he gets into trouble."

"Me, too, Little Brother. Me, too."

He's hard and Tim felt his arousal. Before long, Dick was thrusting deep into the Omega's mouth, triumphantly shooting his load down his throat. As he descended to a calmer state he felt remorse when he saw the signs of weariness on the younger man's face.

"Timmy," he whispered as he gently kissed the Omega. Their very rare and special Omega. "Timmy, did I hurt you?"

The younger man smiled at him weakly. "No more than usual, I guess."

"You know you can say _no_."

"I don't want to, Dick. I need this. I need you."

He brushed the hair away from the Omega's brow. _God, I love this kid!_

"There's a matinee of _A Glass Menagerie_ at the State Theatre tomorrow. Care to join me?"

Tim was amused. "Sure."

"I was also thinking - early dinner right after?"

An eyebrow shot up.

"Are you asking me for a date?"

"Yup."

Tim stared at him like he'd grown another head.

"What is it with you, two?"

"Huh?"

Tim's eyes were searching. 

"Jason said he'd take me out to dinner when he comes back. Are you, guys, planning something? I mean, you're both asking me for dates?"

"No," he answered. So, Jason's finally fallen in love with their Omega, Dick thought. He wasn't surprised. He had seen it coming and he's glad.

It was easy to fall in love with Tim. His generosity, optimism and thoughtfulness were attractive traits to the usually brash and angst-ridden Alphas. Dick had given him his heart a long time ago, before he was even bonded to the younger man.

"Okay," Tim said.

"Yeah?"

"Okay." Tim then yawned and turned to his side. "Sleep now."

Dick chuckled and spooned the younger man into his arms. "Yeah. Sleep now."

\- 30 -


	2. Better on His Own

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bound was meant to be a one-off story, but, well, I changed my mind.

Pray he's alone.

If you are up to no good, plead to whatever deity you believe in - even Mammon - Red Robin's alone when he confronts you.

Not that it's any comfort being caught by Batman's minion. The kid might look lean but he's muscled and packs a mean punch. And kick. And that staff -

You suspect the kid uses that staff to put some distance between you and him. So he won't have to hurt you too much. But being in the receiving end of the stick still hurts. Really hurts.

The kid's nice though. Nicer than the big, bad Bat and that midget that sticks at his side as Robin. A lot nicer than the giant who goes by Red Hood. Maybe as nice as the black and blue garbed Nightwing.

Actually Nightwing's pretty laid-back. But for some reason, when he's with the kid, Nightwing gets all grim, silent and extra violent. Extra fast. Punches extra painful. Threats extra mean. Like Batman.

But compared to the giant in the red helmet, Nightwing's a sweetheart. You'd be lucky to be alive after Red Hood's done with you. If you prefer to live through the rest of your sorry years in a wheelchair, that is. Or setting off metal detectors with the bullets lodged in your innards. It's sad either way.

On their own, Nightwing and Red Hood are bearable. Heavens help you when those two swoop down to lend Red Robin a helping hand, though.

You should know. Your cousin, Lenny - dumb retard - got himself a job with Hugo Strange. _Perv!_ Got the drop on Red Robin somehow, got the kid trussed up like Thanksgiving turkey. It ain't nothin' you haven't seen before but when Strange gripped the kid by the chin _that way_ -

You shake your head. No kid should be touched that way. No one should be touched that way. There are lines that shouldn't be crossed. Even by people like you.

You slipped out of your hiding place and called the cops on the public phone. Within seconds, two shadows appeared at opposite ends of the building. You didn't stay to watch.

It was all over the news next day: Hugo Strange's back in Arkham, doctors waiting for him to wake up from a coma. As for your cousin, Lenny, well, he got paid upfront with a broken clavicle and five years in jail.

You sigh. You wonder if Lenny's a lost cause. You've been in that same boat years ago. Until a young vigilante caught you snatching a purse from some old lady and, instead of bringing you over to the cops, gave you a business card and some advice.

"The Wayne Foundation runs small business programs for disadvantaged Gothamites. You can attend the courses for free and after you've successfully completed the program, you can apply for seed money."

"What's the catch, kid?"

"No catch."

"Why are you telling me this, kid?"

"Thought you might like to know."

It was the best thing you've ever done. Listening to the kid. Your life's turned around especially when you found out you love baking bread. Sure your store's in Park Row (you refuse to call it Crime Alley), but well-heeled folks and chefs whose names you cannot pronounce have been parking their beemers outside your bakery to get your bread.

So when that crazy Hugo Strange dragged the kid into that derelict store across the street, you had to follow and check on your favourite crime-fighter.

"Hey, Maurice!"

You turn and see Red Robin by the door. He's taller and the the baby fat's all gone from his face. _Pretty_ , that one. Even with the domino mask. You can tell.

"All ready to go home, kid?" you chuckle. The kid drops by now and then, but always at three-thirty in the morning when you're pulling out the first batch out of the oven. You grab a small loaf, cut a small piece and hands it to the boy. You watch the kid chew it appreciatively.

"Cream cheese, walnuts and... cranberries?"

"Yup."

You drop the rest of the loaf and a sourdough bread into a paper bag, crunch it close and push it into Red Robin's protesting hands.

"Maurice -"

"On me, kid."

"But -"

"Scram, kid!"

You turn away and you know he's gone. You transfer the rest of the bread into a wicker basket and stride out to the storefront. And there it is - ten dollars. Way too much for two loaves of bread.

You sigh.


	3. Not in a Barn

His hands are shaking as he lights up. They're shaking still as he takes a long, deep drag. His first cigarette in three months. He has quit. Well, he has decided to quit. 

But failure...

Failure doesn't sit well with Jason Todd.

Failure has a way of pulling him back to old habits.

And failure... _Failure hurts._

He's been given an opportunity, a rare one. In this time and age when Omegas are all but extinct, he's been given a chance to bond with an Omega. A claimed Omega. 

_It's fucked up! Who's ever heard of an Omega having two Alphas? Who's ever heard of Alphas sharing an Omega?_

But there are precedents, Alfred had said and proceeded to rattle off names and details. Jason was not listening though, preoccupied with the question, _How the hell are we going to make this work?_

He could have walked away. He _should_ have walked away.

In the end, he couldn't refuse the offer. Not when it provides the clarity of mind he has been craving since he rose from the healing waters of the Lazarus Pit. Not when it provides an end to his estrangement with his adoptive father. Not when the offer was given with magnanimity and much compassion.

And he's blowing it. _Spectacularly._

"Thought you've quit?"

He almost drops the stick.

"Jeez, Goldie!" he hisses as he looks up towards the roof. "Give a guy a warning, will ya!"

The man who strikes fear into the hearts of criminals as Nightwing is in his civvies. It doesn't affect his flexibility and balance any as he flips into a handstand before vaulting over the edge of the roof to land beside Jason at the porch.

"Stalking much?" he snipes, annoyed at the interruption.

"You've got my Omega in there," Dick growls, sounding as nearly scary as the Batman. "I swear if you hurt him, I'm gonna hunt you down like a dog -"

"You think I'm stupid?" he hisses back. "I may have some anger management issues but I'm sure as hell not stupid! Why should I hurt someone who can help me?"

He cards his fingers through his red hair as he turns away. He shouldn't be antagonising Dick Grayson, his adoptive brother and Gotham City's top Alpha next to Bruce Wayne. At his word, Dick could end this - grab Tim and ban Jason from ever setting foot within a mile of the Omega. Dick has the right and no one, not even Jason, can begrudge him that.

"Gotta smoke?"

That's another surprise, Dick asking for a cigarette. He offers his pack and Dick pulls out one. He offers to light it up. Before long they are both taking drags and exhaling smoke into the night sky. The gesture eases the tension between them.

He chuckles.

"What?" Dick asks.

"I've never seen you smoke until now. Batman knows?"

"I don't like smoking." Dick blows out rings. "Doesn't mean I don't know how."

"Mmm."

After a pause, Dick asks, "How did it go?"

Jason resists the urge to sigh. _How do you tell an Alpha your attempts to bond with his Omega is bombing big-time? That it's all just sex. That there's no harmony, no balance, your aura overwhelming the other's and you end up riding out your frustration and anger._

Dick's expression darkens for a moment and Jason braces for a punch that does not come.

"I take it it didn't go well," Dick says, quietly, his blue eyes fixed on Jason's green ones.

"I tried, Dick. I -" He groans in frustration.

His brother then drops his used cigarette and stepped on it. "Maybe you're trying too hard."

"Say what?"

The soft laugh holds no mirth. "I'm not sure if it's because it was Tim's first heat or maybe our history. I claimed him first try."

"Lucky you," Jason mutters, drily.

"What I'm certain of is I cared... I loved him. I wanted him for some time. So when the opportunity presented itself..."

"How the fuck is that gonna help me?"

Dick flicks the white strands on his forehead. It's Jason's turn to growl.

"You're not stupid. Act smart then," his brother tells him firmly. "You chose Tim. There must be a reason for the choice."

"Hey, news flash: he's the only one who can control my rage! I can't help help it when I go all Zen when he's near!"

Dick makes an exasperated sound resembling a stallion's neigh. "There's always a choice, Jason. You chose Tim among the millions to be your anchor."

"But he's the only Omega -"

"It has nothing to do with his being Omega," Dick insists, fervently. "You chose to engage with him even before you decided you wanted the effects of the Lazarus Pit be put under control."

"I -" he begins to protest, but Dick's words ring true. He does like Tim though Jason had attacked him, even tried to kill him. Many times. 

"Tell me," Dick prompts, crossing his arms. "Why have you stopped trying to kill Tim?"

"If I wanted to kill him, he would've been dead already."

His brother is not taking any of his sass. "Jason?"

He stubs his cigarette onto the wooden rail before throwing it away.

"He's... He's cool, you know? He's a pain in the butt, sure. But he's got... well, he's got good timing. Got me out of really serious scrapes. Shares intel, too. He doesn't have to, but he does it anyway." He bites his lip at the memory of the times he had hurt the kid. "He thinks I deserve redemption. Hopeless idealist. But it's cool."

He feels like an inarticulate bumpkin.

Dick merely smiles at him before punching him on the shoulder and walking away. 

"You're okay, Little Wing."

"What? Where are you going?"

"Back to Gotham."

"You're leaving? I thought you're gonna help me?"

Dick stopped and turned, slightly frowning. "You're not inviting me to a _ménage a trois_ , are you?"

"Hell, fuck, no!" he splutters, overwhelmed by horror. 

Dick laughs, "Look, you'll be alright. You just have to stop trying and start _liking_."

"What does that even mean?"

Dick laughs some more and continues walking away, giving a brief wave before he disappears into the darkness. A few seconds later, the roar of a motorcycle pierces the silence.

Jason groans in exasperation. 

_Leave it to Dick to make enough noise to wake the dead!_

***

"I heard a bike."

Tim is standing in the middle of the lounge in sweatpants. Just in his cotton sweats. The fabric caressing the hard-earned muscles underneath seductively. With his bo in hand, he cuts a mighty sexy image that goes straight to Jason's crotch.

Jason likes.

_Likes._

_Oh._

"Just a lost soul," he answers, shoving his hands into the non-existent pockets of his own sweats. _Damn_. "I sent him back in his merry way to Gotham."

Tim loosens his hold on his bo, suddenly looking shy. It takes all of Jason's self control not to slam the younger man onto the floor and ravish him right there and then. Alfred wouldn't approve. 

_You weren't raised in a barn, Master Jason._

_Superman -_

_Was raised in the farmhouse, not in a barn._

_But Alf, I'm a street rat -_

_Not. In. A. Barn._

He rubs the back of his neck and ventures a grin. "All that, well, sex made me hungry."

Tim's face takes on the colour of a tomato pretty quickly, bolstering Jason's confidence.

"I'm up for some Chinese. You?"

Tim smirks, folding his arms across his bare chest. "We're in Alfred's log cabin. In the mountains. Although we have electricity and the plumbing's civilised, the nearest homestead is some 20 miles away."

"Oh, ye of little faith," he chides as slings an arm around the younger man to guide him towards the kitchen. He can smell himself on Tim's skin and then bonding doesn't seem much of a chore anymore.

"I'll have you know my skills are not limited to the battlefield or to the bedroom."

"Them fighting words, Jason," Tim remarks, drily.

"And you -" He throws an apron at the other when they reach the kitchen. "Need to make yourself fucking useful." He then rummages through the drawers for a cleaver and a board.

He hears Tim open the fridge and bring out the vegetables. 

"Beef or chicken?"

"Chicken," he answers, laying the utensils on the table. Then he grabs hold of Tim, bringing him before the table and orders, "Now, chop!"

"What? You said you're cooking!"

"I'm cooking and washing. You chop."

Tim snorts but obeys, skilfully wielding the cleaver. _Alfred has taught the boy well,_ Jason snickers to himself. He waits when Tim 's peeling the carrots when he wraps his arms around the other, pressing against Tim's back.

The younger man stiffens considerably.

"Hey, Tim, don't be like that," he says, gently nuzzling his partner's neck. "We've been banging each other, trying to sort out this whole bonding thing. You should be used to me by now."

"Sorry." Tim loosens up, but not by much.

"Look. If it works, it works. If not, then it's not meant to be. No pressure." He squeezes, his hard-on pressing onto Tim's back. "I know how hard it must be for you. But for the record, I like fucking you."

Tim's hands still.

"Really, really like fucking you." He gives the bare shoulder a nip. "If we fail to bond, I'm still good. Least I got to fuck you. Lots of time. Many times. Yeah, fuck."

He hasn't thought Tim could get any redder, but he does.

"Jason," Tim begins weakly but Jason chooses that moment to thrust meaningfully. Just one thrust.

"I didn't tell you to stop chopping," he whispers to the younger man's ear. He feels Tim shiver before resuming his task, his motions slower. "Dick told me you think of me a lot."

" _Thought_ ," Tim corrects with a croak in his voice. "Dick talks too much."

"Nah. He said _thinks_. Present tense."

"Look, I'm just concerned, okay? I happen to believe Robins should stick together - _Oh, God!"_

The knife clatters onto the table as Jason slips his hand into the other's pants. He grips Tim's jaw and begins kissing. Gently first. Tentative licks and tender sucking. Before long, he's devouring that hot little mouth, tongue exploring relentlessly.

All thoughts of supper, bonding and failure vanish.

Tim's skin is warm to the touch and his arousal evident in Jason's hand. He strokes the length, teasing the tip with a calloused finger. Tim can only whimper at the assault, Blood has pooled into Jason's crotch and all he wants now is make this man in his arms scream in pleasure. To bask in the insanely euphoric feel of flesh pressing against flesh. 

He groans as he pushes the other to lie on the table, the naked body before him glistening in sweat. He can't remember how both of them lost their pants. Not that it matters anymore. What matters is Tim's legs wrapped around his waist, urging Jason to give in to his desire.

As he pushes in his hardness, he feels it like a whisper at the back of his mind. Tim's aura. Warm and... _bashful_? He ignores the myriad questions threatening to break his focus. He wants this. He wants to rock against this body. He wants to see those violet eyes staring at him with lust and surrender. He wants to make love to this wonderful, eccentric, driven young man who has willingly spread his legs for him.

The pull is gentle, coaxing his own aura to blend into Tim's. To cover them both like a light, protective shield. And Jason feels it then. The connection. The rush of intense awareness that they are involved in something deeper, more ancient, almost magical. It feels... just right.

Tim bucks. He's nearly there. Jason is not far from coming himself. He licks Tim's shoulder, then bites as the intense orgasm tides over him. He hears Tim moan, in pain or in pleasure, he cannot tell. He's not letting go. His teeth sinks further and he tastes blood. Tim's orgasm pulses in his hand. Still he does not let go. He won't let go.

Tim shakes. Jason shudders. Still he thrusts. Slowly now. Taking as much as he can from the union.

Minutes pass. Their auras have already tucked into themselves when they regain awareness of their surroundings. The vegetables and knife are still neatly arranged at one corner of the large kitchen table, undisturbed. Tim is still a sight to behold naked.

"Hey."

"Hey," Tim answers back, wearily.

"Was that... was that what I think it is?"

Tim is blushing. "You just claimed me. On Alfred's hardwood kitchen table."

He laughs and draws away, helping the other to sit up. Jason is still laughing as he grabs some paper towels to wipe off the stickiness from Tim's six-pack.

"What's so funny?"

He shakes his head and hugs the other. "I can't believe... I didn't think... Man, all I wanted was to fuck you."

"You're welcome," Tim snorts as he searches for his pants.

"No, really!" Jason keeps his lover in his arms. "You're hot! Seriously."

Tim looks at him like he had lost his mind. Jason doesn't care. They've bonded, he's now this Omega's secondary Alpha. 

"I was promised food," Tim reminds him in that dry tone.

It no longer fools Jason. 

"That you were, Tim," he remarks, giving the other a swift kiss on the mouth. "That you were."


End file.
